In the struggle the pistol went off, but without damage to either party. ’ ‘What matters it?’ cried Melusine impatiently. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. Maggot, who promptly interposed her cudgel. His legs were fine and strong, he told her that he had been a warrior in ancient times, to which she snorted in disgust. ‘I can’t do that.
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